Nothing So Resembles A Daub As A

There Are Noble Tones, Ordinary Ones, Tranquil Harmonies, Consoling Ones, Others Which Excite By Their Vigour.

You May Dream Freely When You Listen To Music As Well As When You Look At Painting. When You Read A Book You Are The Slave Of The Author's Mind.

Night Is Here. All Is At Rest. My Eyes Close In Order To See Without Actually Understanding The Dream That Flees Before Men Infinite Space; And I Experience The Languorous Sensation Produced By The Mournful Procession Of My Hopes.

Life Is Merely A Fraction Of A Second. An Infinitely Small Amount Of Time To Fulfill Our Desires, Our Dreams, Our Passions.

Silence! I Am Learning To Know The Silence Of A Tahitian Night.